Finding Inspiration
by shopgirl152
Summary: Not Just a Summer Fling Universe. When Phineas is tasked with writing a song for Django's Memorial Service, he finds songwriting to be a lot harder than he anticipated. But with a little help from a surprising source, he finds not only inspiration for the song, but rediscovers a part of himself he thought he lost. two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N 1:** Normally I'd post up a chapter today, then post up the next one tomorrow or the next day. But since I'm out of town tomorrow and getting on the internet might not be possible for part of Tuesday, I'm uploading both chapters today. Hope you enjoy the story!  
**A/N 2:** So this is set about a week, maybe even a few days, after the events of Remembering. So after Ferb and Phineas received the news about Django's death.  
**A/N 3:** Song used: Drink a Beer by Luke Bryan.

* * *

"When I got the news today, I didn't know what to say…" Phineas trailed off, resting the guitar on his knee as he watched the setting sun, idly tapping his fingers on the warm wood. "So I just hung up the phone…can't believe you're really gone…"

He set the guitar to the side, reaching for the pencil behind his ear before scribbling something in a notebook. He sighed. "It's a start at least. I didn't think writing a song would be this hard…"

_ "I need you to write a song for Django's Memorial Service."_

_ The red head blinked, pulling the phone away from his ear and staring at it a moment before replacing it. "What?"_

_ "You heard me."_

_ "But Bro, all I've ever done—all _we've_ ever done—is song covers. I can't actually _write_ one."_

_ "Yes, you can. I have the utmost faith in you."_

_ "But Ferb—"_

_ His brother hung up the phone without another word._

That had been hours ago. Now here he was; on the pier, trying to write a song and hoping to find some inspiration.

"Okay, let's see…" he tapped the pencil on his leg in thought. "Can't believe you're really gone…don't feel like coming home." He paused, studying the lyric. "Coming home? No. That doesn't sound right." The eraser scrubbed out the lyric, leaving a smudge.

"Going home?" He strummed the guitar. "Don't feel like going home…so…" the strumming stopped. "So what?"

Phineas ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the full beer bottle next to him. "Couldn't hurt." He popped the top and took a sip, holding it up to the sky. "Sorry buddy; I know Ferb and I were going to save this in memory of you, but…I'm kind of hoping it'll loosen up the creative muscles."

"Last time I checked, you didn't need alcohol to be creative."

"Yeah well—" he placed the bottle to his lips, taking a sip. He turned and did a double take, eyes widening in surprise. "D-Django?"

"Yeah?" His friend sat on the opposite end of the pier, reclining against the rough wood, one leg propped on top of the other.

"Whoa." Phineas held the bottle close to his face, squinting at the label. "How long was this in the fridge? I only took one sip; it shouldn't work that fast. At least, I don't think it should. I'm not drunk." He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them. "You're still here."

"Yep."

"But how? You're dead." He paused. "I'd say you were a ghost, but you don't look corporeal." He studied the man in front of him. "Are you an angel?"

"I'm whatever you want me to be."

"That's…not exactly helpful."

"Hey man, I don't know." Django smirked. "You were thinking about me, so here I am." The red head went to take another sip, only to pause. He pointed to the bottle. "Oh go ahead. Whatever I am, I can't take liquids. Goes right through me. It'd be a shame to let it go to waste."

"Just checking."

"I'll tell you what though; my heart feels great. It's like I never had a problem." Phineas stared at him. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Trying to find inspiration." Django shot him a confused look. "Ferb tasked me with writing a song for your Memorial Service."

"Tough break."

"Tell me about it. This song writing thing is hard."

"What have you got so far?"

"Well…" he picked up the guitar again, strumming a vague melody. "When I got the news today, I didn't know what to say, so I just hung up the phone. Can't believe you're really gone. Don't feel like going home."

"It needs work."

"Yeah. I know." He studied his friend. "Why are you here again?"

"Don't know." The man leaned forward, studying him. "But your imagination is _on fire_ right now."

"It is?"

"Yep. I can see the wheels turning." He grinned. "It's really cool."

"Do you see anything that would help me finish the song?" He took another sip.

"You're blocked aren't you?"

"Yeah." Phineas stared at the horizon in thought. "You know Buddy, you were the only one who could understand my creativity at times."

"I always was good at that." Django studied his friend. "What happened to you man? You used to be so creative. A go-getter"

"Things change. I met Izzy, grew up, got married, started a family."

"Don't you miss touring?"

"I miss it everyday."

"So why don't you tour? Get back into it?"

"Maybe you didn't hear me the first time." The red head went to take another sip of beer, only to start as Django ripped it out of his hand. "Hey! I…wait. How did you do that?" A familiar glint came into his eye as he studied his friend. "What I wouldn't give to study your molecular structure."

"See?! That's exactly what I'm talking about! The curiosity! The imagination! Phineas, you've lost that part of yourself! You-you've traded it in for the Domestic Life!"

The red head jumped to his feet. "Hey, I made a choice alright? I _wanted_ to marry Isabella; I _wanted_ to help her raise our daughter. I _wanted_ to be a part of their lives! Abigail and Isabella are the best things that ever happened to me! Before them, I-I-" he paused. "My life wasn't _empty_, but looking back on it now…I guess something was missing…" he sat down and sighed. "I dunno. Maybe I _have_ lost myself. But Izzy and Abby—"

"Look, you have a beautiful, loving wife who has not only been supportive of you, but who loved you enough to travel around in a _van_ of all things while you guys were touring." Django got down on one knee, looking his friend in the eye. "If solo touring is really what you want to do, then do it. Don't let it pass you by; do it while you still have a chance. Life is short." He rested a hand on the red head's shoulder. "Isabella will understand."

Phineas groaned. "How did we go from writing a song to—" he stopped, looking around. "Django? Buddy?" He frowned, searching the lake a moment before lying on his back on the pier. "Great. Several minutes of talking to myself and I'm nowhere closer to when I started." He groaned again. "I need another beer. On the pier."

His fingers drummed out a tune on the wood. "Sit right here…on the pier…sunset…drink a beer…wait." He sat up, grabbing his pencil and notebook before perching the guitar on his knee. He strummed a chord and started singing.

_So I'm gonna sit right here  
__on the edge of this pier  
__watch the sunset disappear…__  
_

"And drink a beer." The red head smiled, standing up and looking at the sky. He pounded a fist against his chest before pointing two fingers up to the stars. "Thanks for the inspiration Buddy; I know what to do now."


	2. Chapter 2

"It's been said that the people we love never fully leave us when they die. Somehow, a piece of them always remains; a memory, a favorite song, or a favorite place." Phineas looked over the assembled crowd of friends and family, his eyes meeting Isabella's for a moment before returning to the entire congregation. "For Ferb and I, that place will always be Danville Pier, down by the lake. This is where Django, Ferb and I shared many laughs, talks, deep conversations and more than a few beers."

He chuckled softly. "When Ferb asked me to write a song for today, I didn't think I could do it. Songwriting was something I'd never tried before. But with a little inspiration from an old friend, I think I came up with something fitting. Something that deals with friendship…and those days when just hanging out with your friends drinking beer is all you need." He lifted his eyes heavenward. "Hope you like it Buddy."

The red head motioned to Ferb and Buford behind him, the two playing the opening chords as Phineas joined in on acoustic guitar. "When I got the news today, I didn't know what to say. So I just hung up the phone. I took a walk to clear my head, this is where the walking lead. Can't believe you're really gone. Don't feel like going home. So I'm gonna sit right here, on the edge of this pier and watch the sunset disappear…and drink a beer."

He backed up, allowing Ferb to approach the microphone.

"Funny how the good ones go, to soon but the good Lord knows, the reasons why I guess. And sometimes the greater plan, is kinda hard to understand. Right now it don't make sense. I can't make it all make sense."

Phineas came up to the microphone again, his voice blending with his brother's.

_So I'm gonna sit right here  
__on the edge of this pier  
__and watch the sunset disappear  
__and drink a beer…__  
_

* * *

"So long my friend, until we meet again. I'll remember you and all the times that we used to…" Phineas closed his eyes, strumming the now familiar chords. "Sit right here, on the edge of this pier…" his ears perked up at a sound behind him and he stopped, turning around. A soft smile crossed his face. "Hey Izzy."

"Hey yourself." She returned the smile, kissing him on the cheek as she joined him on the back porch. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just playing my guitar. Forgot how much I missed it; guess it's been awhile…" he trailed off, staring at the instrument in thought.

"That was a beautiful song you wrote; I think Django would have loved it."

"Yeah. I think he would have too."

"You guys sounded great."

"Yeah."

"Phin? Are you okay?" Isabella studied her husband a moment. When he didn't turn and look at her, she rested a hand on his knee. "You've been quiet all night. What's wrong?"

He picked a few strings on the guitar before looking at her. "Izzy, I've been thinking…" he swallowed. "Writing a song for Django's Memorial service made me realize something; I love it here; I love that we've been living here for two years and raising a family." The red head smiled. "I have loved watching Abby grow up and spending time with you and living the domestic life, but—"

"You miss being on the road. Being a performer."

"Yeah. I miss—" Phineas paused. "Wait. Izzy, how did you—"

"I could see it in your eyes. I see it every time you're onstage, every time you perform. I saw it the night I met you and I saw it today." Isabella was quiet for a moment. "It's who you are Phineas; you're a showman, a performer. An artist at heart. It lights you up. The only other time I see that look is when you look at me."

"Izzy, I do miss performing, but—"

"And if that's what makes you happy, then you should do it.

He blinked. "What?"

Isabella took both his hands in hers, forcing him to look at her. "Phineas, do you want to perform again? Would that make you happy?"

"Well yeah, but—Izzy, what about Abby? She's only six. I mean, me being gone all the time…maybe I didn't really think this through. A six year old is a handful and—"

"Does performing mean a lot to you?"

"Yeah, but—"

She pressed two fingers to his lips, effectively shushing him. "Then go. Follow your dream." She kissed him. "I know how important this is to you. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine and so will Abby." She smirked. "If Abby misbehaves, I'll just send her on the road with you."

He chuckled softly, cupping her face in his hands, staring into her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The red head brushed a strand of hair from his wife's face before leaning in and kissing her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She pulled away, her eyes widening. "Oh!"

"What?"

"Do you need to talk to Ferb and Buford? See if they'll tour with you?"

"Oh. Um…" he scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "I already talked to them. After the memorial service. I told them I was thinking about touring and asked if they wanted to come with me. They said no." Isabella glared at him and he laughed, putting his hands up in defense. "I wasn't going to just up and leave Isabella; I _was_ going to discuss it with you first. It's just I was already thinking about it and they were there and, well…"

She smirked. "It's a good thing you're cute Phineas Flynn."

* * *

"Is that everything?" Isabella looked around the upstairs landing.

"Yep." Phineas held up a suitcase in one hand and a guitar case in the other.

"That's all you're taking? How long were you planning on being on the road? Because if it's longer than a month, wouldn't you need more clothes?"

He laughed. "Nah. I can travel light. I'll just find a hotel or a Laundromat."

"Phin, are you sure?" She frowned. "I don't want you to—"

"Hey, I'll be fine Izzy. I took care of myself while touring as Summer Still Rocks remember?"

"You traveled with two other guys. And you didn't always have enough stuff; we constantly ran out of toilet paper remember?" She smirked. "Not fun when you're pregnant and having to pee every hour."

He returned the smirk. "You just had to bring that up." His expression turned serious. "Trust me Izzy; I'll be fine. I can handle myself."

"I know." She stood up on tiptoe, kissing him on the lips. "Are you going to say good-bye to Abby?"

"I dunno. I don't want to wake her up, but—"

"Phin, you have to tell her good-bye. It's better she hears it from you; otherwise she'll wonder where you are and why you left."

"You're right. I'll just—"

"Mommy? Daddy?" Abby walked out of her bedroom, trailing her teddy bear behind her as she rubbed sleepy eyes. "Why is the light on?"

"Come here Sweetie." Isabella squatted down, scooping Abigail into her arms. "The light's on because Daddy's getting ready to leave on a trip."

"A trip?" She turned to him. "Where are you going?"

Phineas set the suitcase on the floor. "Abby, remember all the stories I've told you about the time me, your Uncle Ferb and Uncle Buford traveled around in a van and how we were singers?" The girl nodded. "Well, I'm leaving to do that again. I'll be singing in different places, playing my guitar."

"Oh." Abby stared at him, wide-eyed. "Will you be on TV?"

"Maybe."

"Will you call Mommy and me everyday?"

He smiled. "Yes."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Dunno."

"Will you come back?"

"Yes." The red head leaned over, taking his daughter from Isabella. "I may be gone for awhile, but I'll always come back. And when I'm not here, I'll be thinking about you and Mommy. Is that okay?"

Abigail seemed to consider the question. Finally, she smiled. "It's okay." She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you Daddy."

"I love you too Sweetie." He kissed her on the cheek before handing her back to Isabella. "I have to go; I can hear the cab outside."

Isabella leaned over, kissing him on the lips. "Good-bye Phin. Call me when you get to your destination. Stay safe. I love you."

He returned the kiss, smiling against her lips. "I love you too. Thank you for allowing me to do this." He kissed her one last time. "And for believing in me."

"I'll always believe in you."

"Good-bye Izzy." He gave her a warm smile. "Until next time." He picked up his suitcase, went down the stairs, out the door…and was gone.

* * *

**A/N:** Don't worry guys; this is hardly the end of Phineas adventures. Go check out Coming Home (which takes place a year after this story) and Adventures in Hitchhiking (which occurs after Coming Home).


End file.
